Over generations, teenage angst has been one of the toughest issues to deal with. Perhaps the use of the phrase itself might be a dangerous dismissal, obscuring serious matters. Childhood ends, removing the protective covers from a murkier reality, leaving youngsters to cope with issues that they are yet unable to fully comprehend.
The back cover of Best Stories describes the book as a ‘collection of timeless pieces from the world’s greatest storytellers—Oscar Wilde, O’ Henry, Saki, H.G. Wells, Conan Doyle, Washington Irving and many more.’
In this modern-day world of multi-novel fiction and fantasy such as A Song of Ice and Fire (or The Game of Thrones to those of the more visual persuasion) and Harry Potter, the literary merits of the short story sometimes get overlooked. It is always easier to mentally engage with a vast story, where a fleshed-out universe is created by the author. The reader in turn can commit to a fairly complex relationship, often involving multiple characters who will see growth and change. Even the standalone full-length novel tends to have the space and time for a reader to invest in the plot and characters, and see them mature. The short story is different. It can convey significant complexity, often having elaborate philosophical or moral points to make, or being open to a multitude of interpretations. But the investment in reading the story itself is minimal. The short story might have a cast of relatively unidimensional characters, or very few characters with limited backgrounds being provided. Like Japanese Muromachi period art, the short story conveys a deep and intense picture but keeps its brushstrokes minimal and quick.
The magical woods comprises two separate yet intertwined fantasy stories of 2 children who have lost hope, and enter a forest.
When Hina lost her father, she lost her mother, house and her way of life.